Author: loweritup

I write what's right, but in my world, I write left (handed).

Be Real Estate

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As a casual observer of people in my age-group who are beginning to purchase houses, I have come up with so many questions about the process. And I don’t mean about adjustable mortgages or taxes or anything that easy. I mean the really REAL important questions.

Most people see this as idyllic. I see it as violent projectiles used by tornadoes, hurricanes, and zombie hunters. Very NSFL.
Most people see this as idyllic. I see it as violent projectiles used by tornadoes, hurricanes, and zombie hunters. Very NSFL.

1. How do you get banks to talk to you?

  • Most banks see I’m in a messy custody battle with Sallie Mae (she wants all my money, but I want to eat food and stay clothed at least 5 days a week), and just give me a handshake and a free mint.
  • Is there a Match.com out there to match me up with banks? I mean, I’d even consider a Christian Mingle version. The bible says usury is a sin, so at least I could throw that card on the table.
  • I once got a first date with a bank who offered me a higher interest on consolidating all my loans as long as I gave him half my paycheck. Actually, in hindsight, that might have been a loan shark. Yep, definitely a loan shark. But at least he was willing to listen to me.
  • How do I prove that I’m employed at a stable job? Actually, how do I prove more that I’m so desperate for a paycheck that I will never do anything to jeopardize my employment, no matter the working conditions or wages?

2. How do you decide what kind of house you want?

  • What if you get a haunted house? That’s a lot of commitment for a structure that might need an exorcism once every few years. And what if the ghosts are dicks, and just talk about you behind your back like they’re “better than you” for being able to travel between planes of existence?
  • What if you get a house in a neighborhood on the verge of being taken over by a corporation’s eminent domain legal battle? Or even scarier, hipsters (Sorry, once you own a house, you are called “yupsters”).
  • There’s so many things to consider: high voltage power lines, Indian burial grounds, tap water without fluoride, late-shift mailmen, neighbors with 14 cats. What if the neighborhood children are ALL home-schooled?
  • Are these questions you are allowed to ask a real estate agent? Can you ask how many gay couples live in the neighborhood, or if anyone on the block is a registered libertarian? Can I ask when the last act of God was (flood, earthquake, nuclear power plant explosion, plague, etc)?
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This is what people call in the “biz” call a “Fix Or Up Her.” You either have to fix it or put enough balloons on it to make it float away.

3. How many YouTube DIY vidoes do you have to watch to become a “registered homeowner”?

  • People who own homes seem to know things that I would never even consider. Like when to water the grass. I thought that was rain’s job! Why are we even sacrificing to the water gods if they can’t even do that for us?!
  • Or how do I fix the water pressure? Do we just put unrealistic expectations on the water heater and hope it delivers? If I live on a hill, is there less water pressure because it has to climb uphill? Should I choose to live in a valley and rely on gravity.
  • And what about decks? How do I know when to treat it? How do I even know if I’m treating it well? Will it thank me by not harboring vermin or traveling hobos underneath it?
  • What if I want to build a playground on my property and don’t have any kids? Do I have to register with a state agency for that?

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    Metal swings are a device to make sure all children are up-to-date on their tetanus shots. Truly a public health wonder.

4. I’m afraid I’m going to move into a bad neighborhood, so how do I prevent that? And I don’t mean bad, as in high crime. I mean bad as in having terrible neighbors.

  • What if my neighbors keep to themselves and I start to form wild theories about their basement and shed? I’ve seen Lifetime movies and “Law and Order.” Their neighbors never know.
  • Or even worse, what if I do all that covert ops, and the neighbors really ARE spies, but some other patriot swoops in first and exposes them? Months of going through their trash and NO glory!
  • What if my neighbors want to convert me to their religion, or worse, their country club. I can’t golf or play tennis. I don’t even like polo shirts!
  • And my worst fear of all: what if the neighbors don’t even like me as a person, and won’t come over to pressure my water heater, or check under my deck, or rain dance in the front yard when I’m on vacation? Would there be anyone left to trust?

Millennial Maladies

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Students Free Photo

Being a Millennial is difficult. Look at these people above. You have to make sure all your friends are attractive and happy, and every friendship circle needs at least one sassy person who just doesn’t give a shit about what people think of them.

To make matters worse, no one understands you, because no one even knows who you are. We think the scientists have narrowed it down to a gene in your body that is between 12-30 years old. However, even that doesn’t make any sense because lots of us have genes in our body. So until the sciencemen and doctors give us a definitive explanation of “Millennial,” I will do my best to help out the current group of teens, college students, and post college dregs on society who need direction.

For my first post on Millennial Maladies, I will be writing about weight loss and exercise today. As a millennial, we are constantly being bombarded with fast-weight loss promises (cocaine and meth) as well as unattainable bodies (Kim Kardashian’s photoshopped ass). This can make your head spin (and not just from the illegal Mexican Phen-Fen you bought off a guy named Pedro selling oranges on the freeway). So I want to break it down into a simple DO/DON’T list that doctors and Cosmopolitan love so much. Please let me know your success stores, as I am always looking for new and different ways to help out my fellow Millennials. I would also like to hear your failure stories, as I pride myself in feeling superior to other Millennials.

(**Please note, I am NOT a doctor, but I have the student loan debt of one which makes me qualified to make these statements below)

  • DO drink lots of water, because it is free. But you don’t want to look like a Frugal Franny, so make sure to call it “Organic spring fed water, infused with minerals.” You’ll be the envy of all the idiots.
  • DO get a job that makes you overworked and underpaid. Luckily, there are many of these jobs available, but make sure to only accept a position where you do the work of 4-10 people. Then immerse yourself in work so much that you get to the point of being so busy where you forget basic human functions, such as freedom and hunger.
  • DO make sure you work as much overtime as possible, to make sure you are so tired when you get home that you can’t even eat.
  • Speaking of sleeping, DO this fun and FREE hobby called “napping.” If you’re not awake, you can’t eat. Also sleep helps you burn calories and save you from crippling depression that comes from inadequacy to become a productive member of society.
  • DON’T have children. This contributes to extremely uncontrollable weight gain for both men and women, and the food they give to children nowadays is just riddled with calories. Since that is the only food you will be able to afford when you have children, you will have to eat it too.
  • DO get an animal that needs so much love and attention that the only way to stop it from being so needy is to exercise it to the point of exhaustion. This means you will also need to exercise, you can’t just let it run off its leash. Make sure to get an animal bred for fighting and dominance. The aggressive nature of the beast will ensure you cannot let it out of your sight. I suggest a junkyard dog or a prize-winning rooster.
  • DO become friends with drug dealers. Now, don’t mistake this with becoming a drug dealer yourself. That’s illegal. However, it is NOT illegal to be friends with scumbags (yet). Drug dealers like hanging out on street corners, which is outside. You will get plenty of fresh air and often times you will need to run at a moment’s notice if cops or rival drug dealers show up. This keeps you up to fit on your cardio. Prostitutes are also good friendships to employ.
  • DO take hand-me-down clothing from people who are the size you would like to be. The motivation to not go outside in a burlap skirt and a towel sundress (men can call this “kilts” or “robe”), will push you to fit into clothes that currently do not fit you. You may get called a few names in the process (such as “skank” or “poor”) but the end results will be worth it, when you can finally fit into outdated clothing meant for someone else’s body type.
  • DON’T get a gym memberships. They are too expensive. However, it can be difficult to get proper exercise if you live in a neighborhood that has mandated muggings to keep the crime levels up and rents down (this is called reverse gentrification, or “rentrifcation”). Yet, if you are creative, you can stay fit even without a trainer. First of all, scope out nearby playgrounds. Since these are meant for children, they are usually the safest places in cities. Make note of how the children are playing to establish an accurate and efficient exercise. Slowly circle the perimeter to get all visual angles of the work outs. Ask the children lots of questions, like “How often do you come here?” and “What exercise is best for your abs?”. Most children are very willing to share their workout secrets. If their parents are suspicious of your activity, just run away to the next playground. Again, bursts of cardio are very good for the heart and self-esteem.

I hope you enjoy these suggestions. Please do not write me if you get arrested or fined for any of the above activities. I am not a lawyer, so you cannot blame me for not knowing your local laws.

Golden Americans

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America is amazing at a lot of things. In order of importance:

  1. Freedom
  2. Freedom to create new cheese products
  3. Sports
  4. Sports involving freedom

That last one is most important, especially this time of decade. Even years are greater than odd years for 1 reason only: The Olympics. Every 2 years, Americans do the one thing America is absolutely best at: Banning together against a common enemy. And we can consider 1986 the greatest year, because that’s when International Olympic Committee decided to alternate the Winter and Summer Olympics. Thank you, IOC, for the best gift a patriot can get. A never ending supply of Gold Medals. 

It doesn’t matter what kind of American you label yourself, there is a Winter Olympic event for you.

  • Gun loving American – Biathlon (you fucking ski and shoot a gun!)
  • Dance like no one is watching American – Figure skating
  • Car loving American – Anything that involves speeding down a hill at 100 mph
  • Housekeeping American – Curling (imagine the things you can do with a broom)
  • Stoner American – Anything involving Shaun White
  • Hate Canada American – Hockey
  • I Believe I Can Fly American – Ski jump
  • Cuddle Loving American – Bobsled
  • Pomp and Circumstance American – Opening Ceremony
  • American American – Gold Medal Awarding Ceremony (but only when an American wins; if an American did not win, this is just called “Learning Other National Anthems and Appreciating the American National Anthem More Ceremony”)

Now of course the 2014 Winter Olympics are in Russia, but that doesn’t mean we have to like those commie-loving bastards. We thank them for letting us see their country so we can compare it to our great cities, like Denver, Lake Placid, and Salt Lake City. We acknowledge that they built new structures for us to win our medals in. We use their snow and ice, but keep in the back of our minds that American water makes the best snow and ice. But if they touch one of our Americans just because they are gay, there will be hell fire rained upon them that they have only written about in their fancy novels about “revolution.”

So for the next 17 days, we are not blue-state or red-state, conservative or liberal, male or female, Brony or not-Brony. We are ONE America and we are rooting for the 230 athletes we graciously let leave our beautiful shores for a few weeks because we know they will come back reeking even more of freedom and patriotism (as if that is EVEN possible). So if you don’t follow the Olympics, don’t even talk to me until the end of February. I will be over here with my real friends, cheering for the Olympic judges to be of sound mind and body. And if you are an America corporation who is not a damn proud sponsor of the USA Olympic Team, don’t even look at me. I don’t want your unfreedom products anyways.

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Let’s go, Kitten! Freedom Fans need us!

 

Incomplete Sentences

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The worst assignments I ever received in high school and college were the broad topic writing assignments.

“Just write about anything,” they said.

“It will be fun,” they cruelly mocked.

“Explore your interests,” they taunted.

“I don’t want to limit you,” they said with malice in their tongue.

Whenever I heard these words, all I could think was,

“Nooooo!”

“Put me in a box.”

“Force me to write about something I don’t want to write about.”

“Tell me I will never be able to understand the topic.”

Literally (and I MEAN that in the most literal sense of the word), I cannot bear being told to “just write about anything.”

Now, I know what you are thinking. Well, right now you are just writing about writing. How boring is that?

You know the phrase, “If you want something done, ask a busy person.”? Well, you want an unpleasant topic explored, ask a writer.

I think this malady of writer’s block is talked about best by one of my favorite web comics The Oatmeal. This makes me happy that there are others out there who can’t stand “generic assignments.” It truly is a First World Problem, but if this is the worst thing that happens to me in my life, then I am lucky. Or…unlucky, because bad experiences produce good writing. Goddamnit, I can’t win at this.

But I can’t write lately. I could blame the weather. I could blame politicians that made me jaded. I could blame work for making me use 90% of my brain for most of my waking hours. I could even blame the fact that at this moment, I am the happiest and most content I have ever been. But these are lame excuses. I was given an amazing gift last Christmas: a piece of internet real estate. I now own my moniker “Lower It Up.” But I realize I have been wasting it. I have power. I am “Google-searchable” now. I can make an impression, a digital imprint. And if only a handful of people read what I’ve written, that’s still a handful of people who experienced my original thoughts.

Now I could make the excuse that I am still writing because I write on Twitter, Facebook, Tongal, Instagram, emails, graffiti, etc. But these aren’t substantial enough to be considered writing, because anyone can do this. Seriously, anyone with thumbs can do this. Actually, I’ve seen enough cats on the internet to expect that they are also able to contribute to the cacophony of social networks.

However, sometimes I think of something so clever that if I don’t write it down, I’m afraid no one will ever think of this thought again. I don’t know if that’s a real phobia, but if it is, I hope the side effect of the prescribed pill is “more cleverness” and “dizziness upon standing.” My drafts are filled with half-drunk, half-asleep, half-Spanglish thoughts. I think in the language of puns and wordplay. I add sarcasm where it shouldn’t be and become as introspective as a Denver doobie brother when it is inappropriate. I don’t hear voices in my head, I see garbled sentences that need to be structured. So why can’t I put fingers to keys as frequently as I used to? 

Hey wait…I just wrote something. Don’t call it a comeback. I should keep doing this. 

Welp Internet, I came here to write and make excuses. And I’m all out of excuses.

Day 31, 2013 – Toy Story of Terror

On By loweritupIn 31 Nights of Horror, 31 Nights of Horror - 20131 Comment

Toy Story of Terror (TV Short)

2013

toy

This 22 minute short was the greatest gift “The Great Pumpkin” could ever give me. I recorded it a couple weeks ago, not sure when I wanted to watch it. Well, I found the perfect time: the final day. I can’t watch anymore scary movies; they are too scary. I may do this again next year, but I definitely need at least the 11 months to recover to no longer be scared of certain sounds and musical chords.

Disney is always there waiting, like someone with a hug at the end of the day. The only adults who wouldn’t want to sit down right now and watch a Disney film are those adults who either work for Disney or work for a three year old who knows how to use the Blu-ray player.

This short is so adorable, I don’t want to give anything away. However it should be known that all the original voices are back, including a couple new ones. Pixar’s animation is so charming, it’s actually comforting to watch. When I go to sleep tonight, I won’t be hearing the Amityville Horror house talking to me or terrifyingly fast violin chords. I will be hearing Buzz Lightyear and Woody’s voices.

Did you hear that, house?

I’m not afraid anymore!

I said, I’m not afraid anymore!

Do you hear me? I’m not afraid anymore!

Day 30, 2013 – The Amityville Horror

On By loweritupIn 31 Nights of Horror, 31 Nights of Horror - 20132 Comments

The Amityville Horror

1979

amity

Maybe I have been watching too many horror movies lately, but this one was far too long. At almost two hours, I started to get both bored and scared, which is a weird mixture of emotions. I had never seen The Amityville Horror before but I do have cable, so I was completely aware of the story. I knew it was a made-up story before even watching the movie, but then again, aren’t all stories from the 70’s made up?

I could imagine that if you believed the premise was true (a family moves into a house were gruesome murders took place and then start experiencing strange phenomenon), then this would have been a frightful experience. However, I’ve come to the conclusion after almost a month of watching horror movies that I am terrified of haunted house. Haunted people, haunted things, haunted pets, haunted rivers, bring them on. But a haunted house is my number one “NOPE.” And yet I still willingly chose to watch this film. Even with the creepy lullabye intro, I was still in it to finish.

The movie stars Margot Kidder (of Lois Lane in Superman fame) and James Brolin (of Barbra Streisand’s husband fame) as Kathy and George Lutz. They move into a house that is selling for way under market value, which should have been warning number one. Also, the real estate agent is scared of certain rooms to walk into. Warning number two. This is why we should be glad states have “stigmatized property laws”. If house is haunted the real estate agent has to tell you. They also apparently have to tell you if a house had AIDS victims, but that may be outdated (hopefully).

Then, we find out that this couple KNEW about the gruesome murders that happened there. You know what, bitches, you deserve this. About a month later they move in with their three children and immediately weird shit starts happening as it always does to white people in the suburbs. First, a family friend Catholic priest comes to visit them and bless the house, only to be locked in a room with a bunch of talking flies who try to choke him out. He escapes but not before getting a bad case of stigmata. And he can’t warn the family because they didn’t know he there in the first place. First rule of a priest is that you can’t enter a home without being invited. Wait, that’s vampires. Well, same thing.

The family and house start off normal enough. The family unpacks. Hangs a crucifix on the wall. The couple has sex in their weird all-mirrored bedroom on the floor even though there are plenty of mattresses and beds throughout the house. Then the daughter starts acting weird, saying she has a new imaginary friend, no one can call the house without getting static, and crazy stuff starts happening every night at 3:15am.

Next George Lutz starts to get sick. Then ornery. Then can’t perform during sex. Then he is mean towards his wife and stepkids. Then won’t change his clothes for several days. Then has a compulsive wood chopping hobby. Claaaaassic signs of demon possession. He then gets the worst symptom of all: Christian Bale crazy eyes.

jg

The demon that’s possessing the house now starts in on everyone else. The toilets fill with bubbling tar, it locks the baby-sitter in the closet, it steals money, it teases the dog, it slams a window on the son’s hands All pretty dick moves, even for a demon. George Lutz goes even crazier, and won’t listen to reason from anyone; even his wife or business partner. Luckily the business partner’s girlfriend is a professional nutjob who is able to figure everything out with a book George stole from the library. The house is a nice American combination of evil: Salem witch refugee and cursed dead Native American bodies.

Now that everyone (including the dog) knows what is up, do they decide to leave? No, because then the movie would be over. Instead more crazy shit starts to happen. The priest who tried to bless the house goes blind, then catatonic. Everyone keeps calling out George for looking exactly like the murderer. The daughter is now bordering on the edge of psychotic from listening to her “imaginary friends.”

Finally, they decide it’s time to go when the walls start to bleed. I guess everyone has a tipping point, and this is theirs. They slip and slide through the river of blood that was once their hallway and leave the house. Well, they try until the daughter (who probably brought the demon with her like an idiot) wants them to go back to get the dog. At this point in the movie, I was like “nooooo, not the puppy!!” But thankfully, this movie is boring and nothing gets killed. The family finally bounces for good, leaving everything behind them, including George Lutz’s prized massive tower of firewood.

Day 29, 2013 – Attack the Block

On By loweritupIn 31 Nights of Horror, 31 Nights of Horror - 20131 Comment

Attack the Block

2011

block

I saw this movie and year ago and liked it. Then I saw it this year with the subtitles on and straight-up fucking loved it! It is amazing how many words and syllables you miss when trying to listen to fast talking thug British children talk. Plus they make living in the projects look like so much fun.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. I don’t want you to think living in the projects is just all fun and games. There are serious issues that need to be addressed. Unsupervised children. Rampant drug use. Gang banging drug dealers. Unsecured buildings.

A group of teens, led by 15 year old Moses, robs a girl during a fireworks night. I assume it is either Guy Fawkes night or some royal baby was born. Not sure what else British people celebrate. Because of the excessive amount of fireworks in London that night, the youths are free to roam about and cause mischief, as youths tend to do. In this case, they decide to mug a nurse on her way home from her shift. Luckily for the girl, a meteor crashes into a nearby car and she is able to escape relatively unharmed. The youths decide to investigate and end up finding a screaming monster who escapes to a nearby playground.

Taking it upon themselves to “protect the block” the teens run after it and kill/stun the creature with fireworks and bats. However, now they have a dead mucus monster on their hands. So they decide the best place to bring it would be a drug dealer’s apartment. I mean, the weed room IS usually the most secure place in the ghetto so it does make sense.

Neither the drug dealer nor his lackeys seem particularly concerned with a group of teens carrying around an unidentified animal and allow them to keep it in the apartment. However, while this is happening, more meteors are falling from the sky. Except for this time, it isn’t a petite mucus animal. It is a bunch of “big alien gorilla wolf motherfuckers.”

Even though the teens are out of their league they decide that above all they need to protect their projects. So they gather up as many weapons as they can. They even have the nice nurse who they tried to mug join them. They can’t figure out why these hairy beasts are being so aggressive towards Moses. Until one pothead customer points out that the first alien they killed was most likely female and had oozed her female juices all over Moses when he dragged her to the grow room. These “big alien gorilla wolf motherfuckers” are the aliens males looking to mate.

I’m not going to give away the ending because the movie is just too much fun to watch. Plus you learn all the cool new slang that I’m hoping kids in America will start using so I can finally understand them. Until then though, I’m just going to start saying “Wagwan bruv?” to everyone. Get used to it. (*I apologize in advance if this is racist)

Day 28, 2013 – The Birds

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The Birds

1963

bird

Alfred Hitchcock was considered one of the great scary movie directors, but luckily we live in the “age of the Internet” so we also know that Hitchcock was a generally creepy dude, which makes his movies even more terrifying. He was obsessed with his leading ladies. He spent days on scenes that were less that a minute long. He was so calculated, that he knew exactly what the movie would look like before they even started shooting. The amount of attention to detail rivals only that of maybe research scientists and definitely serial killers.

If you’ve never seen The Birds, I assume you still have some sort of pop culture reference to it. If you don’t even have that, then I can’t help you. However, for those who need a refresher, I’ll offer one. Tippi Hedren is a beautiful blonde named Melanie living in San Francisco. Melanie seems pleasant enough…until you realize she is a stalker, manipulator, and pathological liar. Enter the love interest, Mitch, He knows Melanie by reputation, which makes her seem like a call girl, but really she is just a rich socialite with too much time and too many friends on her hands. She is, by every definition of the word, a brat. They meet in a pet store while Melanie is looking for a bird that will say curse words to her friend and Mitch is looking for birds for his little sister’s birthday.

Melanie is intrigued by this man who knows her, but she doesn’t know him, as any bored rich girl would be. So she tracks down his license plate (through Daddy’s connections) and finds out his home address, which subsequently leads her to his weekend home in a place called Bodega Bay. Mitch needs to get less trusting neighbors or gay ones, because men are more than willing to offer Melanie any information she wants on Mitch’s residence and home life. Even the local school teacher gives Melanie everything she needs to concoct a lovely lie to get into his house. She’s just blonde, not Jesus!

Melanie brings Mitch’s sister a pair of lovebirds. Mitch catches Melanie sneaking into his house to drop off her gift with no ulterior motive, and chases her into town. That’s when Melanie is attacked by a gull. But this is The Birds not The Bird, so you know more possessed evil is coming from the skies. But when? That’s how Hitchcock drags you in to his movies. He offers you JUST a taste, then makes you wait around for 35 minutes of exposition and beautiful crafted camera angles before scaring the crap out of you again.

Now it’s Mitch’s turn to be intrigued by this little blonde psycho who followed him to his hometown. He brings her home to his mother who immediately disapproves, because let’s be honest, Melanie is like the least redeeming character in horror films. I’m more sympathetic to the blonde teenage camp counselor who wears only bras after sundown. Before Melanie can get a chance to show Mitch’s mother they aren’t in some Oedipal play, the town begins to be attacked by more and more birds.

It gets gruesome and then really, really LOUD at parts. Which is more psychologically terrifying than the scenes themselves. Doesn’t matter how slow or fast or how many or few, wings flapping is worse to me than whistling. In fact, if some of those birds started whistling while flying I probably would have walked out of the movie theater (*side note, I saw this on the big screen).

One smart woman accuses Melanie of bringing this evil on the town. But then she starts getting hysterical and Melanie has to slap her, which sends the woman’s credibility out the window. No one in town can figure out what is going on, because I assume Bodega Bay is made up of 68% fishermen, 20% drunks, and 12% children. None of who are experts on birds. And the one woman who actually IS an expert on birds, just wants to be a know-it-all and won’t listen to anyone.

The movie ends with Melanie getting attacked by a roomful of birds, but then saved by Mitch and his mother-wife. Then they all hop (well, more like skulk) into Melanie’s Aston Martin and head out of the now deserted town, leaving flocks of birds to now finally poop in peace. But not before Mitch’s sister brings the pair of lovebirds with them. This girl needs a lesson in “correlation equaling causation.”

Day 27, 2013 – Trick ‘r Treat

On By loweritupIn 31 Nights of Horror, 31 Nights of Horror - 20131 Comment

Trick ‘r Treat

2007 (but was actually released only at film festivals and went to DVD in 2009)

trick

Demon children/child ghosts have a special place in the pit of my stomach. Something about seeing an undead little person possessed by the devil gives me some serious shudders. Obviously, it has to do with “unfinished business” and “death of innocence.” But I also think it stems from the fact that I have a very rational fear of having my ankles slashed or bitten, something that the demon child in this movie actually does.

This is one of those fun movies that has interlinking plot lines, where the stories of four different groups are connected only by slight overlap, but all connected by a bigger theme. Just like other perennial favorites, such as Love Actually or Crash. In Trick ‘r Treat, the major connection is “Sam,” the pumpkin head kid who wears a burlap sack and footie pajamas and is playing a decades long game of intense “trick-or-treat.” Sam…you’re winning the game. Trust me. Now go back to Satan’s lair where you belong.

The first story is an annoying drunk couple on Halloween night. They deserve to get killed immediately. The only connection they have to the other stories is that they show up in their scenes to provide a timeline. I’ll title this one “Timekeeper.”

The second story is a little more detailed, involving a serial killer who also happens to be the principal of the local school. I can’t tell what his M.O. is since he seems to go after old and young, women and men. The only thing we do know is that his very annoying child is very good at helping dispose of the victims. I’ll call this one “Bonding Time.”

The third story is slightly cliche because it involves a group of tramps wearing highly inappropriate fairy tale costumes for a Halloween party. They lure men into the woods with their boobs and beers for a serious party. However, there is the “virgin” played by the not-her-usual-annoying self, Anna Paquin. She can’t seem to find the “right one” for her big night and finally gives up and heads to the woods party. However, there is someone following her. Oh look, it is the serial killer principal who has been biting women all night to collect their bodies! Anna Paquin invites him to the party by throwing him into a tree. Obviously, these aren’t your typical tramps. They are werewolves who eat men, drink beer, and dance around a fire naked. Let’s call this one “Killing Time.”

The final story is the most intricate. A group of pre-teens brings a social outcast to a rock quarry on the edge of town. They tell her a local legend of a bus driver who killed a busload of “disturbed” children on Halloween because the parents paid him to. After telling her the story, they disappear, only to appear in costumes to make her believe the dead children have risen for their vengeance. Unfortunately the prank backfires and sends the outcast into shock. Then the dead children actually DO come back, and the outcast leaves the pranksters to deal with their own destinies. It’s hard to tell if she left them in the rock quarry on purpose, she was under a spell, or she was in shock. Either way, children’s screams ensue while she walks calmly away.

This story continues to involve the cantankerous old neighbor of the principal serial killer. We find out he was the bus driver who killed the children and was never heard from again. This is when we are okay with the pumpkin head demon child attacking someone. Unfortunately for Sam, he is able to get his treat and can’t perform his trick (kill) on this terrible man. Luckily, the old man gets his in the end when he opens the door and sees the zombie children from the rock quarry. Then it zooms to the first scene of the movie with the annoying couple. Let’s call this one “A Stitch In Time Saves Nine” because it sounds cool and there’s aren’t many other phrases that involve “time.”

In addition to crossing “Sam” of the list of possible names for my future children, I am also never buying them footie pajamas. I don’t care how fashionable they are. You ruin everything, horror movies!

Day 26, 2013 – Carrie

On By loweritupIn 31 Nights of Horror, 31 Nights of Horror - 20131 Comment

Carrie

1976

carrie

If this movie experiment has given me nothing else, it has given me a bevy of names I will never call my children: Damien. Malachai. Carrie. Stephen King. This movie in particular has taught me never bully people, always have an exit strategy, and immediately arrest overly religious mothers with too many candles.

I don’t know how anyone doesn’t know the story, but it is almost severely basic in today’s horror movies:

  1. Introverted teen girl is social outcast, bullied by peers, especially the girls
  2. We find out her mother is overbearing and extremely religious, punishing the introvert into submission (who’s the REAL bully, huh?)
  3. Introvert develops telekinetic powers (Stephen King loves his mind controlling ladies)
  4. Although some may be trying to help introvert, it’s too late and she burns everything down, bringing the mother and herself down with it.

However, even with ALL those cliches, this movie still managed to surprise me:

  1. Carrie wore literally the sluttiest dress to that prom. For a long time before I saw the movie, I actually thought the pig blood scene involved her wearing just underwear.
  2. John Travolta invented the character of “Larry the Cable Guy.” He barely talks in a full, coherent sentence and even says, “Git er done” a few times.
  3. Stephen King actually admitted that he knew two girls like Carrie who died in their 20s. Why aren’t we investigating Stephen King for more unsolved murders?!

Finally, props to the prop guy for using a St. Sebastian statue instead of a Crucifix. Not sure if this was on purpose, because I would never purposely pick up a Stephen King novel, but it adds an interesting effect. In some pictures, St. Sebastian actually looks like he is enjoying being shot with arrows. Maybe Carrie enjoys her mother’s punishments because it fuels her powers. Doesn’t matter anyways, her mother and her end the same way: eaten by the house. Crazy souls are the most delicious, I hear.